


Seconds

by lysanatt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Mark is calling Lucius for the first time in thirteen years. Lucius and Narcissa have only seconds to decide how they are going to save their family from disgrace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seconds

**Author's Note:**

> _Second_ [countable] someone who helps someone in a fight, especially in boxing or, in the past, a duel.  
>  [number] the second person, thing, event etc. is the one that comes after the first.
> 
> Written in 2005, this came a bit too close to the unpleasantness that was DH and the emasculation of Lucius Malfoy.

**Seconds**

"Cissy! Narcissa! Damn it!" 

A loud call came from the ground floor as she heard the enormous front doors of the manor swing open, crashing against the walls.

Narcissa curled her fingers around the soft, exquisitely carved armrest of the mahogany chair she had been sitting in and rose slowly. Lucius never called her Narcissa in private unless something was terribly wrong. She went down the stairs, slowly sliding, her silken dress' train trailing behind her. Her husband should know better than to order her as if she was a dog. Only one of the Blacks was a dog; a filthy mongrel of a bastard. That... that... blood-traitor! 

_She_ wasn't. Neither a bitch, nor a blood-traitor. She was worried though; she had sensed the weakness behind the strict command, heard her husband's voice tremble, just slightly, inaudible if it wasn't because she knew him. Knew him better than anyone - even better, sometimes, than Lucius knew himself. She hadn't even reached the bottom of the stairs before Lucius came, almost running, up the stairs.

"Cissy, quick...he's back!" Lucius panted. He actually _panted_! She was shocked. An English gentleman did not pant! In a second he had grabbed her around the waist, flung his arms around her and buried his face at her neck. Subdued, bleak sounds rose, as if a wounded bird was nestled in her hair, telling her of her husbands slip into weakness and abandonment.

"Lucius, love, what is it?" His anxious sobbing was contagious, infected her as quick as the plague would a sailor on a ship, infected her with a cold fear she hadn't felt for years. "Lucius! Collect yourself!" This was an inappropriate, as well as a totally uncharacteristic behaviour for her husband.

No matter what had happened she had to be strong. To stand as a pillar for him to lean on. As always. He was strong, yes, so strong. Ruthless and cold, just as she liked her men. But once in a while he needed her. Needed her to stand proud, stand strong, stand united with him. Stand as a family. _The_ family. The Malfoys. No one beside them, no one above. 

It was as she had feared.

"He has risen again, Cissy." Lucius drew in a deep breath; he seemed smaller, fragile, in his anxiety. He drew in a breath and it was as if he had been somewhat inflated, now putting enough of _the Lucius Malfoy, ruler of the Wizarding World_ back in his heart, body and soul, enough to carry on. 

This was why she loved him. Body _and_ soul. His ability to rebuild, to return, to repay, to reciprocate any insult, any blow he'd ever received. He would this time, too. He was her shield, her armour, as she was his spear, his poisoned dagger. He just needed her to aid him a little bit. She grabbed his arms, hard, so hard her pale fingers whitened. He winced. "The Mark." 

She looked down as he rubbed his left forearm as if it was burning. Maybe it was, she had no idea how hurtful the Mark was. "He is calling you?" She wasn't able to believe that everything they had build together, their lives, their luxurious and comfortable life was threatened by the insane madman once again.  
"Oh, Merlin, Lucius!" 

She held an elegant hand up, hiding her pale mouth, as if to stop herself from saying it loud, as if saying the actual words made it truer. "Is our world going to become a battlefield once again? Are we to lose sons and daughters in the slaughter? "Oh, Lucius..." 

Her voice trailed off, weak, she knew what could become of them, knew the dangers, the risks they were to take. She cuddled into his nervous embrace, sliding her arms around his neck. "Hold me, love." She wanted to relieve the tension and the feeling of Lucius' arms around her would make a welcome distraction.

They melted together; slender body against slender body, close, as they were meant to be. Together they could do anything. She knew. And Lucius did too. 

She withdrew with a longing sigh. He could still, even regarding the situation, make her feel like she was melting into a Cissy-puddle. 

Time to get determined, though.

"Can we get a hold of Severus?"

"Tried. Left a message."

"Draco?"

"Safe at Hogwarts. Even the fool of a headmaster has his good qualities. Our son will not come to harm."

"Three scenarios, Lucius. One: we leave everything we have here and leave for France. Two: we play the madman's game as long as necessary while we gather ourselves. Three: we change sides."

"We can't. Change. I would have...liked... if I knew... I wouldn't have acted so foolishly at the World Cup. We must make sure, then, that the Madman wins this fight. France is not an option. I will not leave my home in disgrace, leave it to pick on for the black crows that surely will gather here to feast on the ruins of what my ancestors proudly build. We are returning to our Master"

"Agreed. To _your_ master." She cupped his chin. "My master is you," she whispered tenderly to him, looking deep into his narrow grey eyes. 

Her allegiance was only to the family. And if she had any say in it, his would be, too. Sooner or later they would be free of the Madman; to be left in peace when they took the power over the Wizarding World back in their hands. They still held the power over the Minister and his minions.

Suddenly Lucius crumbled, holding his left arm as if it was burning. It probably was. She caressed his shoulder soothingly with one hand as she shouted an ' _Accio mask and cloak_ ' out in the empty hall.

"You must crawl for him... he thinks we are his true family, he will not harm you seriously," she mumbled to him, calming him as she helped him dress in the hooded cloak. "Just throw yourself at his feet as a scared puppy and hope for his mercy. He'll be furious but at least you've never abandoned the old ways. He'll calm down."

He stood, pain still seated in his eyes, stormy grey and dark from fury and pain. "I hope you are right. I have a bad feeling about this, Narcissa. If everything goes wrong you do as I told you and get to Severus, if he isn't dead as well. Do you understand!" It wasn't a question, but an order. Of course she would do what he asked her. If...

She held him for a moment, afraid to delay him further. "Go, before he summons you again. Next time he'll be even more angry. Go, love!"

He brushed against her mouth with narrow, dry lips. "I'll come back."

She didn't answer. She knew as well as he did that this might have been the last time they saw each other; that he might be dead in seconds.

He Disapparated.

She stared out in the empty void into which her husband had just disappeared. She hoped that the fate of the Malfoy family wouldn't rest solely in her slender hands come morning.


End file.
